Bad Dreams
by BadOldWestern
Summary: Mal's jealousy gets the better of him when he hears Alina moaning in her sleep, so he decides to take matters into his own hands.


She's moaning in her sleep again. Mal rolls onto his back and clenches his eyes shut tightly.

This shouldn't bother him, but it equally drives him mad with jealousy and lust at the same time. Why should she be moaning in her dreams? Was it him that caused this reaction?

There was a time where he could have been sure, yes, his Alina was only his. But there was now an unaccounted history, one she blushed over and didn't want to share with him. The time after he had let her go. The time where she was lost to him.

She wouldn't tell him what happened. He assumed it wasn't much, more in theory than practice, but god, he wanted to know why he was so edgy about it.

A shadow of self-doubt passes over him. No. She has to be dreaming of him, right?

Alina is tangled in his arms, her breathing rushed as it sweeps down his neck. She begins the slightest fidgeting of her legs against his hip. He knows she was too tired for mischief, or he'd assume she was playing a game. He still feels like he was being played, despite this.

Another soft whimper escapes her lips, and she rolls over again, her back faces him. He can't stand it any longer. His hand closes around her arm.

"What were you dreaming about?" he demands in a harsh whisper.

She startles, foggy brained and swollen-tongued, unable to answer his question. She blinks at him in muddled confusion.

"Mal, what's wrong?" she asks, blinking in uncertainty. He sighs, pressing his forehead against her temple.

"Your dream. What was it about?"

"I don't know. Nothing."

"Don't lie. You were…you were." He shuts his eyes and rolls onto his back, crossing his arms over his chest. She sits up to look down at him.

She blinks a few times, trying to wake herself up to deal with him. "Mal. Why are you sulking?"

"I am not sulking." He sulks.

She combs her fingers into her hair tiredly. "Of course not. Mal, what happened? What's bothering you?"

"What were you dreaming about?"

"I don't even remember anymore. Don't be childish, what's bothering you?"

"Alina, who were you dreaming about?"

"Who? Mal, was I sleep-talking or something? What did I say?"

"So you admit you were dreaming about him." Mal never said his name; he feared it would frighten Alina.

"What? Who?" she gapes at him. "Mal, you're sounding crazy."

"Well, you're the one moaning in your sleep."

She turns crimson. "Was I?" her hair hides her face. He can feel the blush radiating from her body. "I didn't realize."

"I did. And, damn it Alina, I know I shouldn't, I just…I just thought…"

"You have no reason to be jealous." She points out softly.

"Prove it." he stares up at her with raised brows, challenging her.

She groans, flopping back down onto the mattress.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"That's not enough right now. I'm just…I need you to show me."

He looks the slightest bit playful when he says it, and that spares her the outrage on her behalf from his demand.

"Show you?" she props her head up. "How?"

"I've got some ideas."

She suppresses an excited smile. She could feel the heady rush of her dream lingering throughout her body, centered in a dull throb in her core.

He rises from the bed, stumbling to his pants where he left them bunched up on the floor. He pulls the belt free from its loops, and goes back to her. She's too confused to stop him when he secures it around her wrists and her wrists are then secured to the headboard.

"Alina" he rolls her onto her back, a little less than playfully. "I want you to remind me of something."

Her eyes are perfectly round and tinged with more intrigue then fear. "What do you want to know?"

"Remind me," he seizes her jaw in his hand, "Why I have no reason to be jealous."

"Mal, I wasn't dreaming about someone else." She blurts out.

He dips his lips to the shell of her ear. "I don't care. Remind me." His hot breath causes her body to shudder beneath him.

"Please, Mal, don't be like this."

His hands grip the back of her thighs. He pushes against her parted legs, pressing his body along hers.

She's astounded by the force of his movements against her body.

"I'm listening," he growls, kissing her hard. Her toes curl as she digs her heels into the mattress.

She wants to grip him tightly, but her ties won't allow it. She moans against his lips, wrapping her legs around him.

He grinds his pelvis roughly into hers. She shuts her eyes tightly and quivers with pleasure. The effect is the desired one, she can think of nothing else but him.

"I-I…." she stutters when he pulls away. She struggles against her binds a little bit.

He starts hiking up her nightgown.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she whimpers. His blue eyes twinkle up at her. He gives her the slightest grin to plead with her to play his game. How she loves his games.

"You don't like it?"

His eyes are dark, and she knows the wrong answer will leave her very dissatisfied tonight. He is proving a point, not that it's a point she won't like. She quite likes where this is going.

"I do." She mutters softly, turning her face away.

"Alina, I'm just trying to get you to remind me of something."

"I don't know what to say!" she snaps at him.

"Alina, please. You have nothing to say to me? I guess we should just go back to sleep."

"Mal, I'll say anything you want to hear." She looks at him defiantly.

He loses his train of thought at this. She pushes back quite well. He nimbly works open the ties of her nightgown.

He brings his lips down to the modest swell of her bosom, staring up at her with dark, hungry eyes.

"Tell me who gets to see you like this,"

"No one but you."

"That's right, very good."

He rewards her with a kiss on her nipple. She groans at the contact, happy to feel something against her bare skin. His tongue slips out from between his lips and the wet touch of it on her sensitive flesh makes her cry out.

"Why am I the only one who can do this to you?"

"Because I love you."

"Elaborate." His lips close back over the bud and he suckles it, a tight wet pressure that has her writhing.

"Mal, I've loved you my whole life, obviously nothing is going to happen with anyone else as long as you are here. Nobody feels like you do."

"I love you too." He pauses to look up at her. The façade slips for a fraction of a moment, and she can see he's thrilled by their game. She lets herself smile at him.

"Can you untie me now?"

"Now, where's the fun in that?" he places a kiss on her belly. She's grown healthier and it's slightly fuller, as are her hips and breasts. He's always loved her, but once she got to the point when he could grab her in handfuls he's been very excited by her body.

He moves down to kiss her pale thighs. She fights the ties again. He holds her hips down until he reaches her center, gently kissing it. The touch is so light it makes her more desperate than pleased.

She tries to bring herself closer to him, but he holds her steady. She gives up her futile struggle with a groan.

"Please Mal, please…"

"Give me one good reason why I should." He teases.

"Because you really aren't so cruel as to leave me unsatisfied? I thought you were the one who was suspicious of me straying from you. You'd honestly risk denying me?"

He stares at her. She's managed to turn everything back around on him. He's turned her into quite the minx.

"Can't argue with that logic," he responds gruffly, slipping his tongue inside her folds. Her eyes roll back in her head.

She longs to bury her finger in his hair, to move against him in a joint effort. He doesn't want this. He can keep this going as long as he wants, instead of them frantically trying to reach her release. He was trying to hammer in the hard-learned lesson of "getting there is half the fun." His last few lessons led him to give up and just give her what she wanted. She had a quiet but insistent way about her in their interactions. He couldn't bear the thought of refusing her, disappointing her, leaving her unsatisfied.

She writhes as much as she can, but he doesn't give her much room to move. He holds her steady, only allowing her the pleasure he decides to give.

She loves it. She will never, ever admit to enjoying how he loves her this way; smothering and much too much. She's over stimulated and can only last so long until she's screaming out his name and panting and flailing about on the sheets. He picks up the pace of his caresses until her peak has been reached and plateaus into burnt out satisfaction.

She lies in the wake of orgasm, breathing heavily and staring up at his cocky smirk.

She wants to grab him by the collar, but remembers why she's unable to after her arms jerk a few times against their binds. She growls in frustration.

"I get the message." He smiles. He's still the composed one; but just barely. He gives her a rough kiss. Her mouth opens to his tongue, practically sucking it into her mouth as a means to hold him to her. He admires her resourcefulness, still managing to keep him close with no hands.

The nightgown is bunched around her hips, and he frees himself from his sleeping pants and rubs his cock along her wet sex. She moans loudly, ready for him once again.

Once he slides inside her, he has given up holding her steady and her hips move in a practiced rhythm against his thrusts. She's at the point where her prowess matches his. Her shyness made this knowledge hard to obtain, he tried to be as gentle as possible with his advice, for fear of scaring her off or shaming her. She took his tutelage well and honestly, he'd never had one like Alina even at her worst. No comparison. None.

Hence his insecurity. He couldn't resent her past, whatever it was, she was vague about it. He still felt…sad, somehow, that the minute he turned his back he was driven nearly mad with longing, and she had been able to move on even the slightest bit. She had a life he didn't know about. A history that was secret. Something not shared with him.

He hated that there was a time that he wasn't there for her, in her life, making a mess of things for her.

So now he focuses on her and their life as much as he can.

He thrusts deeply at a steady pace, not too fast because he wants one more orgasm from her. Her eyes are shut tight and her brow is knit in concentration. She has a similar goal.

"Remind me again." He says softly.

"No one ever compared to you, Mal. No one makes me feel safe, or loved, exactly as I am."

He groans. "I love you so much."

She smirks up at him, bright eyed. "No one," she repeats. "Just you."

His hand shoots down to rub her clit, because she's pushing him dangerously close to his end. The feathery brush of his thumb causes her hips to jerk unsteadily. She chews her lower lip, and with the slightest increase in pressure she finishes once again. He follows her orgasm, grunting out her name heavily in her ear. She smiles, pleased with the nights unexpected turn of events.

He rolls onto his side, fumbling with the belt around her wrists. Once they loosen a little, she pulls her hands free.

"That was a surprise." She points out dryly once she fixes her nightgown into its proper place. He chuckles, pressing a wet kiss to the side of her neck.

"Alina, promise me from now on, you're going to dream only about me." He teases her, brushing her sweaty hair out of her face.

"We never established that I wasn't." she rolls onto her side coyly, whispering over her shoulder.

"Well, um…" he blanches at her devilish smirk. "From now on, have the decency to moan out my name to let me know it's me."

"Noted. Let me go to sleep."

"Alina?" his arms slither around her waist.

"Yes?"

"If you ever dream about fucking me, it's only fair you share it with me." They're hushed and warm in her ear, his words. Her head falls back against his chest.

"Oh. I suppose it is."

His fingers trail up and down her stomach. She gives a little smile and fidgets against the tickling.

"Do you remember what you were dreaming about?"

"Does it matter? Something better just happened in reality."

He couldn't help but let the giddy grin overtake his features. Having Alina in reality was much better than any dream.


End file.
